In Vino Veritas
by EightYearsandaHalf
Summary: Anne accidentally gets drunk at Kellynch Hall. A short, four-chapter story set in late October 1814.
1. Chapter 1

This idea came to me while working out the details of a longer story — I saw the opportunity to get Anne accidentally drunk but didn't think it fit in the story. I still liked the plot bunny so I wrote this instead. I hope you enjoy it!

~~START OF STORY~~

As she stood in front of the tall double doors of Kellynch Hall, Anne Elliot contemplated how strange it felt to be a visitor rather than a resident. Her father, Sir Walter, had recently removed to Bath with her oldest sister and rented out their ancestral home to pay down debts, and the new tenants, Admiral and Sophia Croft, moved in three weeks ago. Anne was already acquainted with the Crofts and enjoyed their company, but had only met them in the neighbouring village of Uppercross where she stayed with her sister, Mary Musgrove. This was not due to a lack of hospitality from the Crofts; rather, Anne had deliberately avoided Kellynch because of her sad history with Sophia's youngest brother, Captain Frederick Wentworth, who was also staying at the Hall. Eight years ago, Anne and Frederick were engaged but she was persuaded to give him up, and he never forgave her for deserting him. Though he no longer loved her, she still loved him and the possibility of being in those same hallways and rooms with her former betrothed would be too painful to bear.

Unfortunately for Anne, her absence from Kellynch was now at an end. She, Frederick and the Crofts often dined at Mr. Musgrove's Great House, and when they attended last night, Sophia mentioned that she would visit two Kellynch tenants today: Mrs. Sparrow, who had just been delivered of her eleventh child; and old Mr. Huntley, who had fallen quite ill. Anne knew both families well and when she expressed a wish to call on them, Sophia suggested that she call at Kellynch Hall first and they could go together. Unable to think of a suitable excuse, Anne reluctantly agreed to the plan.

She now had a fleeting thought that she ought to turn around, but at that moment the large doors opened and a cheerful, middle-aged man greeted her.

"Miss Elliot? Samuel Lewis at your service, ma'am. Mrs. Croft told me you would be arriving at one o'clock. Please come in. I will take your coat." Anne shed her pelisse and he led her to the drawing room. "Please have a seat. Mrs. Croft and the Admiral went out in the gig this morning but we expect them back at any moment now."

Anne settled into the familiar gilt armchair with gold and cream stripes and the Elliot coat of arms carved into the mahogany back. Another man entered the room with a limp and Anne noticed his wooden leg. He made a slight bow. "Joseph Keane, your ladyship, but please call me Joe."

Anne explained that he should call her Miss Elliot and he nodded but did not attend. He knew that Anne's family owned Kellynch Hall and thought with such a grand house, she must be called "lady."

"May I offer you refreshments, my lady? A cup of grog, perhaps?" Joe asked.

Anne's eyes widened. She knew about grog but had never tasted it before.

"We are sailors, ma'am," Samuel explained upon seeing her reaction. "Even with the peace we still enjoy our grog, but — come now, Joe, is that what which you offer a young lady?"

"But Mrs. Croft drinks it," Joe said defensively.

"Mrs. Croft ain't your usual gentlewoman. She has lived on several ships and is used to our ways."

Anne smiled, amused at the two men's banter. "I thought grog was something you drink after dinner."

"Oh, it is, my lady, certainly it is," Joe nodded. "On a ship, we eat dinner at eight bells in the forenoon watch, and grog is served a quarter of an hour after, you understand."

"Of course she don't understand, Joe, she ain't got no notion of watches or bells! What he means, Miss Elliot, is that we eat dinner at noon and have grog at quarter past noon. And it is now one o'clock, as you know."

"Oh, I see," Anne replied. "In that case, I would be delighted to try some grog."

Joe smiled broadly and bowed, then hobbled out of the room. Samuel called after him, "Tell Duncan we need 'em cakes, too."

As they waited for Joe to return, Samuel told Anne how all of the servants at Kellynch Hall were sailors who had served under Admiral Croft for years. After the peace, they had been turned ashore and the Admiral, fondly attached to many of them and knowing how difficult finding work could be (especially for the injured ones like Joe), hired as many of them as he could. Samuel was a former boatswain and now the butler, while Joe was a former forecastle hand turned footman. Duncan, the cook, had been Admiral Croft's personal cook in the East Indies, and the man who had served as his steward was his valet. Still others worked as footmen, grooms and gardeners, and even those duties normally reserved for women, such as the housekeeper's and maids' work, were done by men, for sailors knew how to sew and clean as well.

"The only woman working here is Mrs. Croft's lady's maid," Samuel said rather proudly.

Anne saw the naval influence in the furniture as well. Her father had left several pieces behind when he went to Bath, and now the rosewood settee covered in rich green and gold fabric looked strange between two wooden chairs with black leather seats, which Samuel explained used to reside in Admiral Croft's cabin.

Atop the chimney-piece, the ornate bracket clock chimed a quarter past one. Anne noticed other items next to the clock and Samuel went to pick them up.

"This is a compass and this is a chronometer. The clock is nice to look at but not terribly accurate, so we use the chronometer to re-adjust it once a week." He brought them to Anne and explained how they worked. She was familiar with both items, having been told about them by Frederick long ago, but listened politely.

At the sound of slow thumping behind her, Anne turned to see Joe walking in, carefully holding a large silver tray filled to the edge with cakes and sandwiches on one side and glasses with various coloured liquids on the other side.

"I told Duncan that Lady Elliot was here for a visit and he insisted on providing these refreshments," Joe said as he slowly set the tray down on a table. He handed a glass to Anne. "This here is the grog. Duncan said he made it more suitable for a lady."

Anne assumed this meant the grog had been watered down more than the usual amount, but what it really meant was that honey and cinnamon had been added to the drink.

Joe passed a glass to Samuel and took one for himself and raised it. "In the navy, we toast before we drink."

"What do you toast to?"

"Many things, my lady. First, we drink to the King."

"To the King!" Samuel suddenly cried out of habit.

"To the King!" Anne echoed. They drank from their glasses. Anne found the grog to be pleasantly sweet.

"Next we say 'Confusion to the French!'" Samuel said. "Though we are no longer at war, I think it is still a good toast."

"Confusion to the French!" Anne and Joe said, and she took another sip.

"Let us now drink to Admiral and Mrs. Croft's health," said Samuel, and so they did.

"We should drink to our health too," said Joe, and Anne sipped again.

Samuel asked, "What would you like to drink to, Miss Elliot?"

Anne thought for a moment. "The Royal Navy."

Joe and Samuel smiled and nodded in approval.

After that toast, Anne ate some cake and Joe handed her a new glass.

"This drink is called Admiral's Flip. It is Mrs. Croft's favourite, so Duncan and I thought you might like to try it."

Anne accepted the glass, having no idea that it contained a potent combination of half champagne, half brandy. They toasted to the King again and she enjoyed the trail of warmth the liquid left in her throat and stomach. She took larger and larger sips as they repeated the other toasts: confusion to the French, Admiral and Mrs. Croft, themselves, and the Royal Navy.

At this point, Sophia still had not appeared and Anne wondered aloud about her absence.

"Admiral Croft is as punctual and reliable as the sun," Samuel said. "He would never be late if he could help it, so I think he must have upset the gig today."

"Oh no!" Anne said with a concerned look.

"'Tis nothing to worry about, Miss Elliot. It happens very often. Would you like to keep waiting or should I find someone to take you back to Uppercross?"

"I will wait," Anne replied, enjoying Samuel and Joe's company.

"In that case," Joe said happily, taking another glass, "you must try Dog's Nose." They toasted five more times. Samuel and Joe told a few stories about the navy and Anne laughed, thinking they were possibly the funniest men she knew.

After the next drink, they sang "Hearts of Oak" and Anne played on the pianoforte to accompany their voices. Once they finished the last line "We'll fight and we'll conquer again and again," Joe took another glass.

"This drink here is Black Strap."

Followed by "this is Bouleponges."

And finally "this is Bumbo."

With each new glass, they all three cried out together:

"To the King!"

"Confusion to the French!"

"To Admiral and Mrs. Croft!"

"To ourselves!"

"To the Royal Navy!"

~~END OF CHAPTER~~


	2. Chapter 2

_He sat on a bench in the garden outside his house, enjoying the warmth of the summer sun on his face. At the sound of soft footsteps, he turned to see her walking towards him. Her delicate features were highlighted by the sun; her mouth perfectly shaped, her cheeks with a touch of pink. Her dark brown hair lay loose around her shoulders, just the way he liked it._

 _She tenderly gazed at him and when she smiled, his heart beat faster as it always did in her presence. Wordlessly, she sat down next to him and took his hand into her own, her skin impossibly soft and smooth. She leaned against his shoulder and a sigh escaped her lips. He ran his finger over the gold ring on her left hand and his heart swelled with love for her, his wife. He wanted to stay in that moment for days, feeling her warm body against his, listening to her breathe in and out… just the two of them, together. He closed his eyes, inhaled her sweet scent, and heard her whisper, "I love you."_

~~OOO~~

Frederick stood outside Kellynch Hall's game larder recalling his dream from last night. It had felt so startlingly real that when he awoke, he reached out to find Anne next to him; upon discovering only emptiness, his heart reeled at the magnitude of his disappointment.

After she broke their engagement eight years ago, he tried to forget her and believed it to be done, but he had been very mistaken. Since coming to Kellynch, his thoughts and dreams about her had increased rapidly. He had told himself that her power with him was gone forever, but last night's dream (and the equally vivid dream two days ago, and the one last week…) proved quite the opposite.

To make matters worse, he knew she no longer held any tender feelings for him. When he arrived at Kellynch, Sophia mentioned that Anne had claimed only a slight acquaintance with him — as if their engagement had never happened! At the time, the discovery wounded him more than he cared to admit. Then at his first dinner with the Musgroves, he was vexed to find her absent; she used the weak excuse of caring for her injured nephew to stay away, even though the boy's own mother left him behind. When they finally did meet, she barely met his eyes and said nothing more than a forced "Good morning." Finally, two days ago he had pulled that troublesome Walter Musgrove off her back and she fled the room without so much as a thank you.

Sophia told him at breakfast that Anne would be calling at one o'clock; determined to avoid her, he left the house before she arrived, but there were limited places on the grounds for him to see. The estate offered many picturesque locations, but he refused to visit the best ones due to the painful memories attached to them, in particular the man-made lake, tall oak grove, and orangery. Only a few sights remained, the game larder being one of them.

He stepped inside the octagonal building and saw many braces of pheasants hanging to dry from the ceiling, including the two he brought back after hunting with Charles Musgrove yesterday. Hares hung next to the birds, while the rails attached to the walls were draped with venison that had been seasoned thoroughly with ground pepper. The larder was solidly built of grey stone, with large windows and high ceilings. It made a quiet if strange refuge, but after a short time inside, the smell began to overwhelm him.

He decided to next go to that ridiculous part of the grounds where Sir Walter's father had erected a Chinese pagoda and Greek temple next to each other. As he started walking, he saw Samuel waving his arms and running up to him with a pale and strangely guilty countenance. Upon reaching him, the man knuckled his forehead and stood silently but anxiously, accustomed to speaking to an officer only when spoken to.

"Mr. Lewis, do you have something to report?"

"Yes, sir. Mrs. Croft's guest, Miss Elliot is… she is took poorly, sir."

"What do you mean? And where is Mrs. Croft?"

"Mrs. Croft has not returned from Crewkherne yet. Please come quickly, sir."

Frederick followed Samuel directly into the drawing room where he saw Anne draped across the sofa. Her face was flushed, her eyes closed and her breathing shallow.

"Good God!" He rushed over and knelt down. On the ground next to her sat a copper basin with a small amount of foul liquid inside. He took her limp hand and felt the shock of their first contact in over eight years.

At his touch, Anne's eyes fluttered open. It took a few moments for her to recognise him and then her eyes, which had a hazy quality to them, brightened.

"Frederick," she said with a tender smile. Her use of his Christian name took him by surprise, but more pressing than that, he noticed that her breath smelled strongly of drink.

Turning to Samuel and Joe, who stood near the door with frightened faces, he asked gravely, "Is she drunk?"

Samuel shifted his feet nervously. "Yes, sir."

Frederick knew Anne was not a drinker. She never consumed more than a third of her wine glass at dinner, so she would not have brought this upon herself. "What happened?"

"You see, sir, Miss Elliot came to call on Mrs. Croft, but she and the Admiral have not come back yet so we was being hospitable. We offered refreshments and found out she has never tried grog."

"And you thought it a good idea to give her some?"

Samuel looked down, trembling slightly. "Yes, sir… and some other drinks too — Dog's Nose, Admiral's Flip, Bumbo…"

Samuel's gaze drifted to the sofa table behind Anne, where Frederick counted over a dozen partially emptied glasses. He turned back to the men, who shrunk further into the doorway upon seeing his angry glare. Though Frederick did not have a reputation for flogging, Samuel and Joe were both sure he would charge them with neglect of duty and have them rigged to some makeshift grating.

"What were you thinking?" Frederick exclaimed, omitting the curse that almost followed before he remembered Anne's presence.

"We — we didn't know, sir," Joe stammered. "The glasses wasn't even half full, and Mrs. Croft can drink a bottle of wine in one sitting…"

"So you thought a gentlewoman who has never lived on a man-of-war can drink liquor like a sailor?"

Joe swallowed and whispered, "We are very sorry, sir."

A slight gasp from Anne drew Frederick's attention back to her. As he checked her pulse and the temperature of her forehead, the front door knocker sounded and Samuel returned with a folded note for Frederick. It was from Sophia, who said that the gig had been upset, causing one of the wheels to crack, and she and the Admiral were waiting for a new wheel. She begged Miss Elliot's forgiveness but they would have to postpone their tenant visits, and suggested that Frederick find a way to take her to Uppercross.

He knew he could not return her to the cottage in her present condition. "She will need to be brought upstairs so she can sleep it off."

"Of course, sir."

The men moved towards Anne but Frederick stood up, rising to his full six feet in height yet somehow seeming even taller as he stared down at them.

"No. I shall do it myself. You two have done quite enough already. Clean up those glasses and this basin and do not let me see your faces again today." Frederick was not worried that they might think his suggestion improper, for they were far too concerned about their own well-being. They quickly gathered the items and left.

Frederick removed his great coat and knelt back down. "Miss Elliot, I must apologise for this abominable treatment by the servants. I will bring you upstairs so you can rest."

"'Miss Elliot.' Why must you be so formal?" She slurred.

He wondered what she meant, then remembered she had called him Frederick as she had done eight years ago. She was clearly delirious from the alcohol and possibly confused between then and now.

Lifting her with ease, he walked towards the staircase. He was conscious of her head tilting up and her eyes staring at him, their faces separated by only a few inches. Her breath warmed his chin and he thought if he just lowered his head, their lips would meet… He cleared that thought and concentrated on the task at hand. If he looked at her, he would lose all self-control so he kept his gaze firmly ahead of him.

She lowered her eyes and moved a hand to the lapel of his green tailcoat, gently brushing it with her fingers. Then she rested her head against his chest, took a deep breath and sighed.

"You smell so nice."

He tripped on a step and mumbled an apology. The momentary loss of balance made her instinctively grab the top of his arm. She squeezed it a few times and murmured appreciatively.

He entered one of the many family bedchambers that were not in use, gently placed her on the bed and arranged the counterpane to cover her.

"Are you comfortable?" He asked.

She nodded and he was about to take his leave when she suddenly reached for his hand, startling him with the unexpected yet pleasant contact.

"Stay with me."

He felt the pressure of her hand on his. She pulled him in and he allowed himself to step closer. He had never seen her so forward and rather liked it, but reminded himself that the alcohol was talking. The real Anne was far too proper to suggest such a thing.

"Stay with me," she repeated. "I love you."

His heart stopped. She sounded so earnest, or was he imagining it? He wanted to believe her, to stay and take her into his arms and press his lips against hers… He looked at her, barely conscious, eyes half-closed, unaware of what she was saying.

"I must go."

His voice was low and rough as he struggled to suppress his desire, and at the harsh sound she dropped his hand and turned her head away from him.

"I understand."

The profound sadness in her voice tore at his heart. His mind was in confusion.

"You are not yourself, Miss Elliot. After a few hours of sleep, you will feel better. I will fetch you a glass of water — water will help — and have Mrs. Croft's maid check on you every hour. Is there anything else I can get for you before I leave?"

She made no response. He peered over to look at her face and saw she was asleep. He straightened the counterpane again and checked the urge to stroke her hair and kiss her on the cheek.

"I love you too, Anne," he whispered before drawing the bed curtains closed.

~~END OF CHAPTER~~


	3. Chapter 3

When Anne awoke, she felt as though she had been thrown out of a carriage and then run over for good measure. She tried to sit up but felt dizzy; her body ached and her head throbbed painfully.

 _Where am I?_

Pulling aside a bed curtain, she waited for her eyes to adjust to the dark room as the only light came from the fireplace. When she could see well enough to look around, everything seemed unfamiliar at first, but then she recognised Mary's former mahogany dressing table and cheval glass in the far corner. The memories came flooding back. Kellynch Hall. Drinks. Frederick. A dreadful feeling came over her. Had she really asked Frederick to stay with her in the bedchamber? Had she told him she loved him and had he responded "I must go"? She knew the mortifying answer. Her head throbbed harder. She had never consumed so much alcohol and the after-effects were new to her. Placing her head in her hands, she rubbed her temples and felt a little better.

When she looked around again, she saw a glass of water on a nearby table. She had not realised how thirsty she was and drank it down greedily. As she was about to look for a candle, the door opened slowly, letting in more light.

"Miss Elliot, you are awake." It was Sophia. She held a candle and lit another one for Anne. "Please allow me to apologise for not being here to receive you, and to tell you how sorry Admiral Croft and I are that this happened. The wheel on the gig broke and — regardless, I am so sorry. How are you feeling?"

"I am much better, thank you. Please do not blame the servants. They did not mean any harm."

In the candlelight, Anne could see that Sophia did blame them but she simply nodded. "It is four o'clock now. We are about to have dinner. Please join us; you must be hungry."

Anne was indeed hungry but could not remain and face Frederick again. She had acted very improperly, so bold and forward and unlike her usual self, and he had rejected her. With their shared acquaintances, she would not be able to avoid him forever, but perhaps she might manage a week's absence by finding excuses to skip dinners at the Great House.

"I thank you, Mrs. Croft, but I would like to return to Uppercross immediately."

"Immediately? No, you must stay overnight. Frederick already sent a note to the cottage telling them you are indisposed and requesting a few of your things." Sophia gestured to a small trunk by the bed. "I can have a tray sent up if you prefer to eat here."

The idea of remaining under the same roof as Frederick was intolerable. "Thank you, but I must leave right away. Please, I feel quite well enough to travel. Is the gig repaired? Might you take me yourself?"

Sophia bowed her head. "As you wish, Miss Elliot. I will have the gig ready in a quarter of an hour, if that suits you."

"Yes, thank you. Will you please make my excuses to Fre… Captain Wentworth and Admiral Croft for not saying goodbye? I am afraid I am not fit for company."

Feeling much sympathy for Anne, Sophia readily agreed to her request, then left to talk to her husband and arrange for the carriage. Anne lit another candle to see better and walked to the cheval glass to check her reflection. What she saw only increased her mortification. Her complexion was spotty, her eyes puffy, and some sections of her hair had unpinned while others had loose strands sticking out in every direction. Had she looked like this when Frederick carried her upstairs?

 _If he thought I looked wretched at our first meeting, what must he have thought today?_

Something on her dress caught her eye and she stepped closer to the mirror. Below her neck, a brown patch of dried liquid had stained her white muslin dress. It must have happened when she unceremoniously emptied her stomach into the copper basin, and Frederick had no doubt seen it. Her embarrassment was now complete. She half hoped the ground would open up and swallow her whole.

She retrieved a clean gown from the trunk and changed into it, then started re-pinning her hair. When Sophia returned, they went downstairs together, and with each step Anne dreaded the possibility of meeting Frederick. Thankfully, she saw no one and quickly made her escape.

~~OOO~~

"What an eventful day," Admiral Croft remarked as he cut into the roast venison at dinner, which had been delayed until Sophia returned. Samuel and Joe had told him every detail as they begged him not to turn them out. "First the gig broke a wheel and once we were finally on our way, the horse lost a shoe! And then this most upsetting business with Miss Elliot. I wish you had allowed me to speak to her before she left, Sophy. I must go to the cottage tomorrow to apologise in person."

"Perhaps you might wait a few days, my dear," Sophia said. "I dare say she is embarrassed about today. She barely spoke to me in the gig except to say 'Thank you' and 'Good day'."

"Phoo! Phoo! What has she to be embarrassed about? The fault lies entirely in my hands; I am ashamed at the behaviour of my men. Although…" he looked slyly at Frederick sitting next to him. "I heard she addressed you by your Christian name, Frederick. Perhaps that is what vexes her — that her tendre for you was revealed. Were you aware of it? I knew about the Miss Musgroves, certainly I think everyone does, but never suspected Miss Elliot too. You seem to have quite the effect on the young women in this neighbourhood."

"You are mistaken, sir. Miss Elliot does not have a tendre for me," Frederick said firmly, though he was not entirely convinced of his words. He understood Anne's general embarrassment and wish to depart Kellynch Hall but regretted it extremely. He had spent the last few hours recalling every look, word and touch they had exchanged over the past three weeks (of which there had been precious few), and wondered if he had misinterpreted her behaviour and if there might be some truth to what she said today. He needed to see her again to better inform his thoughts.

"Of course she has a tendre for you!" Admiral Croft exclaimed. "What other explanation can there be when a young woman calls an unrelated, single gentleman by his Christian name, unbidden no less?"

"Perhaps your theory is sound, but you must remember that Miss Elliot was intoxicated. She was not in her normal frame of mind; she did not know what she was saying."

Admiral Croft laughed heartily. "On the contrary, her intoxication only confirms the truth of it! Have you never heard the saying _in vino veritas_? Though in this case, it would be more accurate to say vino, brandy, rum and gin, ha ha!"

"I am aware that liquor makes _men_ speak more truthfully…"

"Whether man or woman, we are all human!" Admiral Croft cried. "I am no surgeon, but I have often observed that while the amounts needed to produce an effect vary from person to person, the consequences of too much liquor are similar for either sex, just like the effects of coffee or laudanum. Did you know, one time…" and then his voice died down, for he was about to tell an amusing story about Sophia but did not think she would appreciate her brother hearing it.

"I am quite of your opinion, my dear," Sophia said. "Many years ago when we sailed together on the Jupiter, at that first dinner you gave, the master gunner's wife drank too much of your capital claret. Afterwards, she told her husband that she hated his pigtail, which he prized as if it were his very own child. The poor man! It brought him so low."

Sophia and Admiral Croft's words nurtured the small spark of hope inside Frederick. However, he knew more than they did, and there was a big difference between Anne using his Christian name and her saying she loved him. He dared not confuse his hopes with reality.

"But might there not be cases where _in vino veritas_ does not apply?" He said aloud.

"I would never claim to speak for every instance," Admiral Croft admitted. "In nature, with enough effort one can find an example contrary to the general rule, but I have seen my fair share of drunkenness and would wager one thousand guineas that Miss Elliot spoke exactly as she felt."

PAdmiral Croft paused to eat some venison, then cast a serious eye at Frederick. "You have been sailing close-hauled for long enough, as it were. Will you not spread more canvass and make an offer to one of these nice young ladies?"

"I fully intend to do so, sir," Frederick replied. He needed to know Anne's feelings and there was only one way to find out for certain. He would call on her tomorrow.

~~END OF CHAPTER~~


	4. Chapter 4

Frederick wanted to call on Anne immediately the next morning but had a prior engagement to hunt with Charles Musgrove. The men always left the cottage early, before Anne and Mary came downstairs, as the best time to find pheasants was when they came out of deep cover in search of food. As they walked through Mr. Musgrove's woods, Frederick inquired after Anne.

"She mentioned a lingering headache last night and said she would miss tonight's dinner, but I am sure she will be well enough to attend. She has a great deal of fortitude and never stays ill for long," Charles replied. He did not know the details of Anne's ordeal yesterday. Frederick's note had been discreet, saying only that she felt unwell.

"I am very glad to hear it. I must call on her when we are done."

The hunting was unusually plentiful which made Charles eager to stay out longer, while Frederick was impatient and distracted. At one point Charles asked him, "Is something the matter with your gun? Your aim is poorer than usual."

When they finally walked back to the cottage with eight brace of pheasants, all but one shot by Charles, Frederick repeated his wish to call on Anne.

"I am sure she is awake by now," Charles said.

Not only was Anne awake, but she had gone out for a walk and Mary could provide no further details.

"No, I have no idea what direction she went," Mary said in response to Frederick's inquiry. "No, I do not know where her favourite spots are. I do not know what time she left, only that it was before I came downstairs. I am her sister, not her nursery-maid."

Charles was more helpful than his wife and mentioned two places where Anne might have gone: a picturesque hill at the western edge of Mr. Musgrove's estate, or a southern field of stunning red campion flowers still in bloom. Frederick considered his next steps. He could wait near the cottage until Anne returned, whenever that might be, or he could look for her and risk picking the wrong direction, causing an even longer delay. Not one for inaction, he decided on the latter. Neither the hill nor field seemed more likely to him than the other, so he made a choice and started walking.

~~OOO~~

About two miles away, Anne sat at the top of a small hill surveying the colourful expanse of fields below. Towards the right lay Mr. Musgrove's apple orchards, the trees stripped of their fruit but with green leaves still clinging to the branches. On the left, Winthrop's bare brown fields contained just-planted winter barley, while its hazel trees lining the hedgerows burst forth with golden coloured leaves. Despite the beautiful prospect, Anne never met anyone else here, which was perfect; fresh air and solitude were what she desired today, and she had walked this far to avoid any chance of bumping into Frederick while he was with Charles.

Physically, she was almost fully recovered from yesterday's events, but her dignity was another matter. As if being intoxicated for the first time in her seven-and-twenty years was not bad enough, she had also humiliated herself by telling Frederick she loved him. That he did not return her affection was not surprising, as he had done nothing to show an interest in her and in fact had avoided her as much as possible. Anne only wished the alcohol had not emboldened her to the point of flouting propriety. There was a difference between implicitly knowing his feelings and being told them outright. The pain of his rejection was a new sensation for her and it stung deeply.

As she sat on the grass feeling the gentle autumn breeze on her face, she mused over the social rules of courtship. As a woman, her role was limited. She could give a man subtle clues such as a delighted smile, eager conversation or the press of her hand, but all overt advances were his domain. This afforded her an uncommon advantage which she had not appreciated until yesterday. If a man was not interested, a woman only experienced a smile unreturned or a conversation politely cut short. Men, on the other hand, faced a much greater risk: they might pour out their hearts and propose to a woman, only to be refused — or worse, accepted and then refused, as she had done to Frederick.

 _My heart may be hurting, but how much more he suffered when I broke our engagement!_

She had been atop the quiet hill for over an hour when she thought she heard the faint sound of footsteps crunching on fallen leaves. Turning towards the noise, she saw a shadow walking through the trees on Mr. Musgrove's grounds. A gardener? She stood up to see better. No, it was a gentleman. She could not tell much other than he wore a great coat the same colour as… he passed the trees and stepped out onto an open area, and she instantly recognised Frederick. Their eyes met and she quickly looked away. She tried to remain calm by reasoning with herself. He was taking his own solitary walk. Surely he would see her on the hill and strike a different path; he must, for she was not ready to face him yet and why would he want to meet her? Yet with each succeeding step, he never changed direction. It would be uncivil to flee, so she stayed and fretted as the distance between them grew shorter and shorter.

~~OOO~~

As Frederick strode up the hill, he saw Anne nervously walking back and forth, looking as though she were contemplating an escape. He wondered exactly how much she remembered — was she simply embarrassed for getting drunk or did she remember everything? She was not used to drinking alcohol and he had seen men go so far beyond their limit that they had no recollection of hours gone by.

"Good morning, Anne," he said with a bow.

She was already flushed and now looked surprised and flustered as she curtsied. "Good morning."

That she had not corrected his deliberate use of her Christian name encouraged him.

"How are you feeling today?"

She flushed further. "I am much better, thank you."

"Do you… do you remember what happened yesterday?" Now she was redder than he had ever seen her before. She turned away and he felt terrible for embarrassing her. "Forgive me, it was ungentlemanly of me to ask."

"No, no. Do not apologise. I ought to feel a small portion of the pain and mortification I caused you."

"You did not injure me."

She looked down at her hands and twisted her fingers as she spoke. "Not yesterday. Eight years ago. I hurt you exceedingly when I broke our engagement. Till yesterday, I did not truly appreciate how it feels to lay your heart out in the open, only to have it spurned… I understand now why you are indifferent to me."

Frederick caught the implication of her words — she had meant what she said yesterday. His movements were now decided. He took her trembling hands and held them fast.

"You are mistaken. I am not indifferent to you at all. I know it appeared that way three weeks ago, or last week even, but I did not know myself then. I have only just realised my true feelings."

"But when I asked you to stay…"

"I wanted to stay, more than anything, but I doubted the truth of your words. I feared it was only the alcohol talking. Anne, dearest Anne." He brought a hand to her cheek and turned her face to his. He saw the pain and doubt in her eyes. "I have loved none but you. Forgive me for not telling you yesterday. Forgive me for the past eight years. I want to stay with you — every day, for the rest of my life. Will you marry me?"

~~OOO~~

The bells of Kellynch church rang out clear and loud on a Monday morning in November, the melodious brass tones announcing a newly married couple.

"Hurry, Joe. We've not a moment to lose," Samuel said.

"Lord! This is heavy," Joe replied as he helped Samuel move an enormous cake laden with dried fruit and brandy to the sideboard.

Today was Frederick and Anne's wedding day, and Admiral Croft had insisted on hosting the wedding breakfast. He charged Samuel and Joe with getting the drawing room and saloon ready, which the men did enthusiastically. Having heard that Anne came to their defense after she got drunk, they credited her for their continued employment and were determined that everything be perfect for such a fine and admirable lady. With the help of the other servants, the wood floors were scrubbed and dried; the carpets flogged until no speck of dust dared remain; the windows cleaned until they sparkled in the morning sun; and all metal objects polished to a high shine.

On two opposite walls of the saloon hung large, colourful rectangles covering Sir Walter's paintings and mirrors; to a landsman, they looked like a haphazard arrangement of painted cloths, twelve on one side and thirteen on the other, but in fact they were placed very deliberately. They resembled the signal flags that ships used to communicate with each other, except instead of hoisting one word at a time as a ship would do, Samuel and Joe had extra flags made to display the entire message at once. Since the two men could not agree on a phrase, one wall showed Samuel's "Wish you good voyage" while the other had Joe's "Much riches and luck".

At the sound of carriage wheels, the men quickly finished and Samuel hurried to the front door.

"Captain Wentworth, Mrs. Wentworth," he said with a salute.

The happy couple walked in, their faces radiant with joy and love. Behind them were Sir Walter and Anne's oldest sister, Elizabeth; the two of them had travelled from Bath for the occasion and, upon entering the connected rooms, looked appalled at the changes made in their absence. Anne's godmother, Lady Russell, came in next and surveyed the area with good humour and pleasure.

The guests enjoyed Duncan's delicious food — sweet buns, buttered toast, ham, sausages and eggs, along with tea, coffee and chocolate to drink. After an hour, Admiral Croft gathered his footmen by the pembroke table and directed them to pour out glasses of mead.

"Fill them up, fill them up. Not too much in this one, it is for the bride, ha ha. Pass them around now."

Once everyone had a glass in hand, Admiral Croft proposed a toast to the King.

"To the King!" The walls reverberated with the loud chorus of voices, as Admiral Croft had invited his servants to join the celebration and they being sailors loved a good toast and drink.

"And now," Admiral Croft said with a big smile, "let us drink to Captain and Mrs. Wentworth with three times three. Frederick and Anne — we wish you great joy. May your marriage be blessed with fair winds and flowing sheets all the days of your lives."

The glasses lifted again and Samuel and Joe's voices could be heard rising above the rest:

"To Captain and Mrs. Wentworth! Hip-hip-hip-hurrah! Hip-hip-hip-hurrah! Hip-hip-hip-hurrah!"

THE END

~~END OF STORY~~

Author's note: THANK YOU as always for the reviews!


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